


A Bet's A Bet

by HardcoreSupernatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25229482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardcoreSupernatural/pseuds/HardcoreSupernatural
Summary: You meet Dean in a bar.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	A Bet's A Bet

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoy it. I had so much fun writing this and wanted it to be a cute little cheesy fic. Please let me know what you think bc feedback is GOLD!!!!
> 
> *All errors or mistakes are mine*
> 
> *Also posted on Tumblr: HardcoreSupernatural*

The bar was awfully quiet tonight which made drinking by yourself even more painful. The days were long but the nights were longer. And with each passing drink, the hole in your heart begins to fade and the emotions of this afternoon's events disappear. Leaving you and your lone drink sitting silently at the bar, waiting for anything to make this night more exciting.

The country music plays softly throughout the bar, drunks and young girls singing along. People gambling pool and many, like you, were nursing a beer wishing for better days.

“Two whisky shots for me and the lady here.” A rough voice echoes through your ears, you don’t look up right away because you don’t believe he is talking about you. And the sudden realization that he was talking about you hit when the bartender placed two shots in front of him and he slid one over to you. Your eyes widening instantly.

A lady? This dude next to you called you a lady. You don’t know why but that irritated you to no end. You want to be left alone with your beer and thoughts. Only wishing now that you never went to this bar.

The glass hitting the counter, broke you from your thoughts signaling that the man next to you finished his shot. You hadn’t bothered to look at him this entire time because you didn’t think it would matter. He would buy you a drink and then leave, right? But instead he decides to sit down next to you, you could feel your stool move a little when he places a foot on the resting bar. You roll your eyes as far as they can go.

You were more annoyed now than before and think if you just take the drink then maybe he will go away. You take the shot in your hands and move it to your mouth. The cold glass tracing your lips and your head and hand go back swallowing the brown liquid. The sting coating your throat and the lasting maple taste settles into your tongue.

“Thanks” you murmur, wiping a little of the liquid from your lips. You finally look up to the man next to you. The scruff is the first thing you notice, like he doesn’t care to shave. Then his eyes, dark, almost hard to make out in the bad lighting of the bar, but the small specs of gold softly seeping through the darkness, is probably one of the most beautiful things you have ever seen. And you knew at this moment that your night just got more exciting.

“So what are you doing here all by yourself?” He questions, signaling to the bartender for a beer like yours. He leans slightly forward, almost shielding you from the rest of the bar. You can smell the dirt, sweat, and several different types of alcohol on him.

“Well, something told me that I was gonna meet the love of my life tonight.” You spin in your stool to face him, your fingers walking towards him on the counter. Lightly tapping one at a time as you keep eye contact with him.

“Yeah?” You notice his Adam's Apple bob in his throat.

“I’m still waiting on him though, it’s a bummer.” You tease, playfully rolling your eyes. You retract your fingers, wrap them around your drink and take a long sip. A smile quickly engulfs his face and he seems to have liked your snarky comeback.

“Can I buy you another drink?” He questions. The bartender finally setting down his beer.

“I’m good.” You mention, lifting your still almost full beer a bit.

“Then, how about a dance?”

You instantly laugh, a dance, really? “If you can’t buy me a drink, what makes you think I’m gonna dance with you?” You shake your head a little.

“You kind of seem like the type.” He remarks, tracing his fingers over the beer glass. Drops of water slowly falling as his warm hands grip the drink and pulling it to his lips. You watch him as his eyes shut, tasting the sweet beer.

“Well I’m not.” You snark back. What kind of woman does he take you for? But you were that kind of woman, you loved to dance and make a fool of yourself especially in a dive bar where you will never be seen again. Tonight was different and you couldn’t help but feel a part of you was lost today, the part that wanted to be happy.

“I’ll play you.” He mentions. Taking another sip of his beer.

A look of confusion completely covers your face, “What?”

“Pool, if I win I get a dance and if you win, I’ll leave you alone.” He holds out his hand, you look down and then back up to his eyes. “Deal?” He questions again. What could possibly go wrong, you question to yourself.

You nod your head, shaking his hand. His rough palms pressing against your soft skin. He even squeezes a little, making it seem as though he didn’t want to let go. In that moment, you swore you could feel something but quickly pull away.

“Well be prepared to lose.” You mention standing up and making your way over to the pool tables. Lightly tracing the edges with your fingers. The man wasn’t far behind you, bringing both of your drinks.

You grab two pool sticks hanging from the wall and walk back to him. Leaning one against the side pocket for him while he is racking up the balls. Making sure the 8-ball is in the middle. Once he is finished, he makes his way to the other side next to you.

He hands you the cue ball, gently placing it in your hands. You let it drop silently on the table, moving it a little with the stick to get it centered. You bend down, the pool stick moving back and forth between your fingers. You breath slowly as you do one final pull back and shoot the pool stick forward, hitting the cue ball sending it rolling and crashing into the others. All the balls scattered throughout the table with one solid hitting the corner and rolling into the pocket. You smile and are relieved that you still got it after so long.

“I guess I’m solids.” You beam, moving around the pool table, trying to see what the best shot is. You bend down once more, moving the pool stick between your fingers and hitting it again, shooting to hit the yellow solid at the far end of the table, but it taps the corner and doesn’t go into the hole. You groan.

“So why are you drinking on a Tuesday night?” The green eyed man asks, trying to make small talk. He makes his way around you and to the cue ball, thinking of his first play. He studies the table a bit, chalking up the stick.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You remark as he bends down a little, eye on the ball and breathes out slowly as he hits the cue ball and a stripped ball falls into the side pocket. He looks at you quite pleased and you couldn’t help but smile back. You lean against the table with your hip, arm crossed, waiting for an answer.

“With my job, every day is a day to drink. Just come here for some fun.” He sinks another ball into the corner pocket. He’s good, you thought.

“Had a pretty bad day, just came here to not think, I guess.” You confess, he pauses for a moment to look at you. You pick up your beer that was placed on the table and bring it to your lips, but before taking a sip you meet his golden green eyes yet again. Finishing the drink off quickly and looking away.

The bartender brings over a couple more drinks and takes your empty ones. You both thanked him and continued with the game. The man stinking another ball before missing.

It was your turn again, and you were eyeing your corner pocket ball, sinking it in the pocket as well as the cue ball. You walk over to the pocket, dig into it and pull out the cue, placing it near another solid. You chalk up the stick and bent down. Shooting it into the pocket. A smile forming across your face, almost teasing the green eyed man about how well you were doing.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He takes a sip of his drink, not moving from his spot.

“Why the hell not, right?” You laughed, sinking another ball into the pocket. You paused for a moment afterwards, thinking through how you were going to say this, “My dad died today...cancer”

“Wow.” He breathes out.

“I bet you weren’t expecting that.” You chuckle a little. Trying to lighten the mood.

“No…” A hand drags across his face and up through his hair. He looks like he’s seen a lot of death but you saying this about your father really got to him. His eyes slowly dropping to the ground and his grip loosening on the pool stick.

You move over next to him, the cue ball right by his fingers, he moves over a little to give you room. You study the ball and table, no clear shots open for you to take. You decide it will be best to take some time. “We knew it was coming and he died early this afternoon. I’m just here to be away from the family. You know, grieve my own way.” You say looking up at him, giving him a little smile.

“You won’t get anything for that position.” He mentions, stepping closer to you, his hands hover for a moment before gently placing them on your hips. Moving them slightly to the right, he moves behind you and presses himself to you. Body slowly collapsing on yours and his hand traveling to yours on the pool stick. He helps guide you, with a final blow to the cue ball, having it bounce off the railing and hitting the red solid, sinking it in the corner pocket. Your eyes grow wide and turn around in his grasp, going in for a short hug. Almost jumping with excitement.

“Thanks for helping me win.” You chuckle.

“Have you ever played pool before?” He steps away, leaning next to you.

“Yeah, my dad taught me.”

He just shakes his head and doesn’t respond. It’s your turn again and you miss this time. It was a quick game after that because the man seemed to have stepped up his game and sunk all the rest of his balls and called 8-ball in the side pocket. You groan knowing what him winning meant.

“You owe me a dance.” He places both your sticks back and holds out his hand.

“A bet’s a bet, mystery man.” You laugh and lead him onto the dance floor.

There aren’t many people dancing and it was kind of awkward at first. You leave him in the middle of the dance floor to go over to the jukebox and put on a classic. As soon as the music starts roaring through the bar, your hips begin to move and you start to tap your feet. Some girls shouted a bit in appreciation for the song choice which makes you laugh.

You move your hips to the beat of the song all the way until you get back to him, placing both hands on his shoulders and letting him take the lead. His dark eyes on you the entire time. You were surprised he actually knew how to dance, and gently pulls you closer. His hands snaking around his waist, squeezing lightly on the exposed skin.

As the song starts to pick up it’s tempo, you shake yourself from his grasp. Rolling your body away from him, making sure he enjoys the show. You were happy and singing loudly along to the song. Putting your hands through your hair.

Your back was turned away from the man, when you felt a present again. His hands grabbing at your waist, pulling you back into him. Slowly your speed a little and grinding up next to you. Hands hooked into your belt loops and his face buried in your neck.

You could have sworn the bar was getting hotter and the only thing you could think of was him. He was making it impossible to be anywhere else. You turn around, catching his face in your hands, pulling him down. 

“Come on.” You take the man’s hand, leading him outside. The cold air of the night fills your lungs. And you finally felt alive. Tonight you let go and you never felt better.

You pull him around the corner of the bar, pushing him up against the wall and start kissing him. His hands are on your in seconds, caressing your face and moving down your body. The kisses are meaningful yet sloppy. The moans coming from each of you, yearning for the other’s touch. Making it hard to stop yourself from doing it right there in the parking lot.

Tongues deep in each other's throat when a buzz comes from your pocket, making you pull away and taking out your phone reading the text. The light for the phone brightens your face, showing the hits of sparkle in your eyes. He places a hand to your cheek pulling you in for another kiss. Never wanting to stop.

“I got to go.” You say pulling back between kisses, him stepping forward catching you in his arms. And as much as you didn’t want to, you had to get back to reality.

You start to walk away, “Wait I want to see you again.” He calls out.

“Don’t worry, mystery man, you will.” You say turning around, walking backwards.

“Dean.”

“Don’t worry, Dean, you will” You smirk, before hauling a cab and leaving him leaning against the old bar in the night.


End file.
